


Labels

by BleedingInk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Love Confessions, Lowkey Wedding, Marriage Proposal, Meg Masters Lives, Meg Masters in a Wheelchair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 19:36:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18198449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingInk/pseuds/BleedingInk
Summary: Meg and Castiel don't have a label for what they are.





	Labels

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a birthday present for my friend Nathalie. Happy birthday!

It had been weeks since her return, but Jack still glanced at Meg with a curiosity he couldn’t hide.

Meg openly stared at him as well. She didn’t know what she was looking for, precisely. Perhaps some sort of sign that the kid really was Lucifer’s, because technically Hell no longer had a ruler and with Lucifer gone, Jack might have been the closest thing she could find to a leader to follow. But she never caught a glimpse of it in Jack; he had none of his arrogant confidence or his open disdain for inferior creatures. If anything, Jack reminded her more of Castiel, with the same kindness and naïveté. Then again, she’d only met him recently and what with the whole “coming back from the dead” and “not being able to walk”, getting to know the nephilim better wasn’t too high in her list of concerns.

In any case, of course she was going to care for him in any way she could. He was important enough for Castiel, which meant he was important enough for her and that was that.

Jack finished putting the books up in the shelf and turned towards Meg, who had parked her wheelchair close and was watching him silently with her chin on her hand.

“Umh… so… I’ve been meaning to…”

“If you want to ask something, kid, just go for it,” Meg said. “I give you no guarantee I’ll answer honestly, but you can ask.”

Jack stared nervously down at his shoes. He took a deep breath and decided to just go for it:

“How come Castiel lets you stay here?”

That was funny. _Let her_. As if he could get rid of her now that she was back.

“You mean because of the whole demon thing?” Meg chuckled, amused. “We come in different flavors, kid. I’m not evil. Well, I mean, if you were to ask Dean, I’m sure he’ll tell you I’m evil, but I can be nice enough.”

Jack didn’t bother to point out there was a difference between being nice and being good. Instead, he kept staring at her, as if he still was waiting for an answer. Meg clicked her tongue. He definitely reminded her too much of Castiel.

“I took care of him when he was in a bad place,” she said. She saw no reason to lie about it. “And then he did the same for me when I was hurt. And then I died. And now I’m back. That’s the gist of it, anyway.”

Jack fidgeted with his fingers, apparently reflecting carefully about what she’d said.

“So you two are… friends?”

This time, Meg had to actually think of that question. She supposed they were friends, in a sense, but if anybody would have seen them the night before in the backseat of Cas’ car…

“We were a little bit less than friends. We were… allies in times of need,” she explained. “And now, I think we’re a little bit more than that.”

“Oh,” Jack muttered. The way he frowned indicated Meg that he didn’t quite get it.

That was alright with her. She didn’t quite get it either, but she was not about to admit that out loud. Not yet, at least. There were still a lot of things that they needed to figure out.

But she knew one thing: she was not going anywhere. She wasn’t about to leave her angel again.

 

* * *

 

Castiel stood in front of the table, silently watching the brothers until Sam noticed him.

“What is it, Cas?”

He was an Angel of the Lord, a warrior, a soldier. He’d seen Heaven’s wrath unleashing upon humanity and he’d served in Hell in order to rescue the righteous man. This was nothing compared to all of that and there was no reason for him to be as nervous as he was.

Castiel took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

“Meg and I will be needing a room. For us to, uh… spend time together.”

Meg would’ve had them simply taking up residency in one of the bunker’s several empty rooms, but Castiel figured the polite thing to do was to ask first.

The Winchesters both looked up from the research they had spread over the table, their eyes reflecting equal surprise. They exchange a glance and then looked back at Castiel.

“Are you serious?” Dean asked.

“Very.” Castiel held his gaze and willed his vessel not to blush. There was nothing to be ashamed of. His relationship with Meg perhaps wasn’t conventional in any sense of the word, but it was part of his life now and he fully expected his friends to know and understand this. “Having our own space will make our living here more… convivial for everybody.”

“Okay.” Dean put down his book and raised his hands up. “Listen, Cas… I have no problem with you staying here. You’re family. But Meg? You’re asking us to give Meg a place to live?”

“Yes.” Castiel tilted his head. “Why is that a problem?”

“Why is…?” Dean looked at him, scandalized. “Are you kidding me?”

“I am very serious, in fact. I know you’ve had problems with Meg in the past, but if you were able to forgive me for all the times I disappointed and betrayed you…”

“That is a very different thing!” Dean protested.

“How so? Because she’s a demon?”

“Okay, guys!” Sam interrupted them. “Listen, Cas. We know you have a… relationship of sorts with Meg and it’s… really, it’s great that you do. It’s not our place to judge or try to understand it,” he added, raising his voice, probably because Dean had just opened his mouth to protest. “But it would be kind of… weird to have her here with us.”

Castiel sighed deeply. At least it was a good thing that all of this was out in the open.

“I understand,” he said. “I will make sure to find new accommodations for us as soon as possible.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“I think it’d be best for Jack to stay with the two of you. This is, after all, the only home he’s ever known and I would hate to uproot him in that manner…”

“You’re saying you’re moving out?” Sam asked.

Castiel sighed and tried not to roll his eyes, a gesture that he’d caught himself performing more and more often. Meg was rubbing a lot of her bad habits on him.

“Of course, I would’ve loved to stay here, but….”

“Why doesn’t _she_ just move out?” Dean suggested.

Castiel just stared at him.

“I want Meg to be safe,” he replied when Dean failed to understand what he meant. “Other angels, other demons, they might come for us. I wish we could stay here, since this is one of the safest places on Earth. But since you’re so keen on kicking her out, I have no choice but to go with her.”

“Oh, come on, man!” Dean protested. “You’re going to ditch us for a chick? And Meg, of all people?”

“I am not ‘ditching’ you,” Castiel said, drawing air quotes with his fingers. “If you need my help, I will be only a phone call away. You’re my best friends and I love you both. But what I feel for Meg is… it’s just different.”

He wished he had a more eloquent way of putting it. He’d known Meg was something else for him for a very long time, and those feelings ran so deep that he didn’t know if Sam and Dean would have the capacity to wrap their heads around them.

“Wow,” Dean said. He turned towards Sam, shaking his head. “You deal with him. I can’t…”

He stood up and left the room, muttering under his breath words like “unbelievable” and “a freaking demon”. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and very gently turned to Castiel.

“Listen, we know that Meg is your… your girlfriend.”

“She’s… she’s not that?” Castiel said, frowning.

That seemed to disconcert Sam slightly.

“But you guys are…”

“Meg is a human soul corrupted beyond recognition and I’m a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent,” Castiel stated. “We’re ancient beings of powers beyond your understanding, as well as potentially immortal. It’s ridiculous to try to define our relationship with such a simple human label.”

“Alright. Didn’t mean to offend you.”

Castiel wasn’t sure what gave Sam the impression that he was offended. He simply meant to say that Sam couldn’t possibly understand the extent and depth of Castiel’s feelings for Meg. Angels didn’t understand love in the same way humans did; it was something that went beyond simple lust or simple compromise. There was also a deep devotion that they weren’t supposed to feel for anyone but their Father and that was why many angels would consider his relationship with Meg blasphemous in the most literal way. But he didn’t want to explain all of this to Sam, so he let him continue with a nod.

“We know your relationship with Meg is… important to you,” he said. “But perhaps you should consider if you’re not… rushing into it?”

“I don’t think I understand what you mean.” Castiel frowned. “Meg died. I died. By some miracle, we’re both back here and we have the possibility of being together. How much longer am I supposed to wait after everything we’ve both been through?”

That disarmed whatever argument Sam was going to wield next. He raised a finger, put it back down, opened his mouth to speak and finally sighed while looking up at the bunker’s ceiling, as if he could find the answer to that dilemma up there.

“You know what? You can take up one of the empty rooms,” he concluded. “I’ll talk to Dean.”

Castiel had to wonder what the point of them protesting in the first place had been, but he thanked Sam nonetheless.

 

* * *

 

“So now you’re staying here?”

“So now you’re alive?” Meg shot back.

Mary said nothing and kept on cooking. Meg was supposedly helping her, but Dean had forbidden her from touching any of the knives and well, what was she supposed to do now? Chop the vegetables with her mind?

Well, she could. But she wasn’t there to make anyone’s lives easier.

And besides, what was she supposed to talk about with Mary? Meg’s father had killed her, then Mary’s son had killed her father and her brother, then she’d killed some friends of Mary’s sons… really, it would be just an awkward conversation all around, so maybe it was best to avoid it altogether.

“You have to admit, it’s a bit weird.”

Meg said nothing to this. She had been thinking the exact same thing, but she would never say so out loud.

“Well, as long as you don’t mind the whole demon thing…” she said, smirking.

“Castiel seems to trust you,” Mary replied, with a shrug.

“Well, isn’t that sweet…”

“I don’t, however. I have holy water on me at all times and Sam and Dean have their demon-killing knife and angel blades with them. We’re all watching you closely.”

That was a more like it. And Meg was finally starting to see the family resemblance.

“That’s fair enough.”

Mary took the lid off and tried whatever it was that she was making. It smelled nice. Meg didn’t really need to eat, but gluttony was one of her favorite sins, right behind lust.

“In any case, I’m glad Castiel has, uh… someone,” Mary continued.

Meg tilted her head at her. “Someone?” she repeated.

“Yes. Someone.”

“I’m not just ‘someone’,” Meg said, narrowing her eyes at Mary.

Mary turned off the stove and turned to look at her with an arched eyebrow.

“You’re his… what? His significant other? His lover? What are we supposed to call you?”

Meg stuck her chin up in the air with pride. She didn’t expect Mary or anyone else to understand. They probably thought she was in it because Castiel happened to be living in a very pretty vessel and he happened to have taken a liking to her that she could exploit. None of them would really understand the way a demon loved: possessively, passionately, obsessively. She had died for him once and she’d gladly do it again without a second of hesitation. As far as Meg was concerned, Castiel was _hers_ and she’d do anything and everything to keep him safe. That was all she really needed to know.

“Maybe you humans need labels like that. But we certainly don’t.”

 

* * *

 

Castiel raised his head from the book he’d been reading to meet Jack’s interrogating stare upon him.

“What is it? Is there something wrong?”

“No. Nothing’s wrong,” Jack said. But clearly something was bothering him, because he kept toying with his pen without turning back to the research they were supposed to be doing. “I was just… I was wondering about Meg.”

This didn’t come as a surprise. Sam, Dean and Mary had all been very wary of her and even now, they were still very much eyeing her suspiciously. Jack, on his part, seemed intrigued by her. Castiel supposed knowing a demon that went against what was supposed to be her very nature was a source of comfort for him. Because if Meg could be good, that meant perhaps he could too.

They never discussed it in those terms, but they didn’t need to for Castiel to understand what Meg’s presence meant to him.

“What about Meg?”

“It’s just… she’s been here for months. And you’ve been… together all that time.”

Castiel nodded, encouraging him to keep going, to get all his doubts out. Jack licked his lips and went for the question that he wanted to ask.

“Are you going to marry her?”

Castiel raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Marry her? Why would I…?”

“That is what people do, right?” Jack asked. “They fall in love, and then they are… together. And then they get married.”

There was a certain logic to that reasoning and of course, it wasn’t all that strange that Jack’s mind would go there. Castiel slowly closed the book in front of him as he tried to figure out how to best answer to it.

“I supposed that is what people do,” he conceded. “Meg and I, however, aren’t people.”

“No, I know. But you do live on earth and just… it was a dumb question. I’m sorry.”

“There are no dumb questions, Jack,” Castiel told him. “And this is not dumb, it’s just… surprising to me that you think we’d need to get married for our relationship to be important.”

“It’s not about that. I know it’s important no matter what.” Jack shook his head and remained silent for several seconds. Castiel waited patiently for him to find the words that he wanted to say. “But what if Meg wants to leave one day?”

That was a concern that had also crossed Castiel’s mind. Despite the Winchesters tolerating her presence (for his sake), it was clear that she was never going to be fully accepted and embraced the way he’d been. She’d complain about it sometimes, with a roll of her eyes and a huff, but so far she’d never indicated that she wanted to leave.

It wasn’t an invalid concern, however.

“She won’t,” Castiel said, with more confidence than he felt. There was no need to upset Jack over it.

“But what if…?”

“And even if she did want to leave, I don’t think something as simple as a marriage label would stop her. She is who she is, Jack, and there is no point in worrying about it.”

Jack bit the inside of his cheek. He clearly wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

“Would you leave with her if she did?”

Castiel didn’t have the heart to lie to him.

“It’s very likely, yes. Not because I’m choosing her over any of you, but because… well, she’d protest the notion that she needs me to take care of her. But I do need her.”

“Huh.” Jack frowned for a moment, as if he was wondering something different then. “How’s that different from a marriage then?”

Castiel opened his mouth and closed it again. He was thankful Sam chose that exact moment to call him to see what they’d found out, because it save him from having to admit that he didn’t really have an answer to that.

 

* * *

 

“Can you believe how obsessed they are with trying to come up for a name for what we are?” Meg chuckled that night when he told her of his conversation with Jack.

They were lying in bed in the room that they’d convinced the Winchesters to leave for them. Their nights usually followed a pleasant routine that Castiel had got very easily used to: Meg returned from wherever she’d been (sometimes she’d tell him, sometimes she wouldn’t and he knew better than to ask directly) or Castiel would arrive from the hunt with the brothers. They’d help each other out of their clothes and then make love twice in a row: first harsh and fast, the way Meg liked it, and then slow and deliberate, the way Castiel liked it. They’d take a break in between to catch their breaths and then go again until the sun came up.

Castiel didn’t know how it was possible to desire someone with the intensity he desired Meg and he didn’t know how it was possible that the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted it.

But this intimacy, of them lying in each other’s arms after the passion had subdued, while he stroke her back and her hair and she snuggled her face against his neck, was also beautiful and soothing in its own way.

“I suppose it’s something that they’re trying to understand in human terms,” Castiel said.

“We’re lucky we’re not human, then.”

“I suppose,” he muttered.

Meg moved closer to him and examined his face attentively, her big brown eyes narrowing at him.

“You’re thinking,” she accused him. “What are you thinking?”

Castiel took his time to think of an answer.

“Human customs used to be so different,” he explained, in the end. “Marriage wasn't an institution of any sort, with parties and officiants and witnesses and everything else they have now. Two people could simply… choose each other, say they were married and then, they were. It was as simple as that.”

“I don’t know. I think weddings could be fun, for the booze and stuff.”

Castiel chuckled at her joke and brushed a lock of her hair aside.

“Of course, you and I getting married would be a ridiculous concept.”

For some reason, this seem to annoy her. She sat up, tugging the sheets up with her to cover her breasts with them, as a deep frown settled in her brow.

“And why is that, exactly?”

She sounded annoyed, the way she did when she complained about something stupid Dean had said or when she thought Castiel was being condescending with her. Castiel stopped for a moment. He knew that when she was in this mood, the best thing to do was to avoid angering her any further.

“Our lives are potentially endless,” he explained. “A vow like marriage in a context like that is meaningless. We’re here right now, together. But we don’t know if in the future…”

He stopped talking. Meg didn’t look any more please with him than she had a moment before.

“So you’re saying, one day you might not want to be with me,” she said, moving away from the bed. Her wheelchair rolled closer to them and Castiel was suddenly certain she was two seconds away from getting out of the bed or start screaming at him.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” he replied. He was more and more confused every second that went on. “I love you and that is not something that it’s going to disappear overnight, come what may.”

Meg scoffed and stared at him, her eyebrows raised with incredulity.

“You love me?” she repeated.

It took a moment for Castiel to realize that it was the first time he expressed those feelings out loud since Meg had returned from the Empty. He probably should have waited for a better context to come along, but now that he’d said the words, it wasn’t as if he could simply take them back.

“Yes. I love you,” he repeated. “And I understand if you’re… unable to feel the same way. It doesn’t change what…”

He was interrupted by a sound that he didn’t expect to hear: Meg was cackling loudly, as if he had said something either very funny or very insensitive. Maybe it was both.

“What?” he asked.

“You think I can’t love you because I’m a demon?” she asked, obfuscated. “Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“I’m not trying to say anything,” Castiel replied. Were they fighting? Was this a fight? “I’m simply…”

He stopped. He wasn’t sure how, but he had the feeling that whatever he tried to say from then on would only make things worse. Meg had moved as far from him as she physically could without actually climbing down from the bed and she was holding her knees against her chest, pointedly looking away from him.

“Why do you think I’m here, Clarence?” she asked after several minutes of tense silence.

“This is our room…”

“No, I mean _here_.” She gestured widely and Castiel understood she meant the bunker. “Why do you think I stay in a place where people mistrust me and threaten to exorcise me at the drop of a hat? Why do you think I haven’t taken the kid and tried to crown him King of Hell to rule through him?”

“You…”

Castiel was about to say that she wouldn’t, but he stopped. It wasn’t a bad plan and Jack did treat Meg better than any of the other bunker inhabitants, perhaps because there wasn’t so much bad blood between the two. With Jack’s concern about Meg leaving, it wasn’t hard to believe that the two were at least friendly to some extent and that Meg could perhaps manipulating into attempting something like that.

The possibility hadn’t even occurred to him until she’d said it. Though, if he was being honest…

“I… I thought you were here for the protection I could provide for you,” he admitted. “That and… other things. But I always assumed that you’d eventually get tired of me and leave.”

She still wasn’t looking at him, but her lips curve in a grimace, as if what he’d said had hurt her but she didn’t want to show it. She wasn’t making a good job of it, though.

“Meg…”

“With Heaven closed and Hell having no ruler, it would be so easy for me to take it,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Even not being able to leave this meatsuit, I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. My situation isn’t as dire as when Crowley wanted my head on a platter. And I can find a good lay wherever I want.” She finally turned to look at him. Her eyes wondered down his chest and her lips twitched into a sad smirk. “Well, maybe not as good this, but still. I don’t need to stay here. I could leave tomorrow and not miss any of this.”

“Oh.” Castiel hadn’t considered it from that angle, but of course she was right about all of it. “Then… why don’t you?”

“Three guesses, and the first two don’t count.”

Castiel opened his mouth, closed it again and breathed in deeply. His rational mind kept telling him that no, this couldn’t possibly be what she meant. Even though he wanted to believe it, even though in his chest and in his guts he already knew it.

“You… you love me?”

Meg stared at him and then, slowly and deliberately, she nodded.

“Oh,” he repeated. His thoughts and feelings had suddenly turned into a chaotic turmoil that he didn’t know how to control.

But he suddenly realized that he was smiling and Meg was shooting him an exasperated glare.

“Dumbass angel,” she muttered.

Castiel sat up and moved closer to her. She didn’t try to push him away or get up, so he figured that was a good enough start. He moved his hand and placed it against her cheek, softly turning her head so she would look at him again.

“Is that why you got angry when I said marriage wasn’t for us?”

“That,” Meg admitted, with a shrug. “And also because our lives aren’t endless, Castiel. We’ve both died already and could once more. Things are good right now, but that’ll only last until the Winchesters break the world again. So in that context,” she added, changing her tone to sound more like him, “maybe it wouldn’t be so ridiculous and meaningless.”

There seemed to be a lot more things that Castiel hadn’t initially considered.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He lower his face and left a kiss on the edge of her lips. “Do you want us to get married?”

“Well, not now that I know how you feel about it,” she groaned. But there was a twinkle in her eyes that indicated an interest she couldn’t hide.

Castiel grabbed her hand and placed a soft kiss on her fingers.

“Do you want to be my wife, Meg?”

Meg scoffed and shuffled, but after a moment of silence, she muttered softly:

“Yes.” She licked her lips and looked up at him. “Do you want to be my husband?”

“Absolutely, yes.”

“Well, you could have at least thought about it…”

Castiel pushed her down on the bed with him and kissed her to shut her up. Meg’s body mellowed out underneath him and with a sigh, she opened her mouth to let him go even deeper.

They were both smiling when they broke away.

“I’ll get you a ring,” Castiel promised, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck and collarbone.

“Does it have to be a golden band?” she asked. “Can it be one of those big ones where you can hide poison?”

He chuckled against her skin and looked up at her grin.

“Dumbass angel,” she repeated, shaking her head slightly.

He pressed her against his chest, taking in the smell of ashes and smoke that came from her hair and skin. He relished in it, in this peaceful silence and peace, because he knew it wouldn’t last.

In another moment, the desire would get reignited and they’d be distracted from this by each other’s bodies.

In a few more hours, the sun would come up and they’d have to get up and get dressed, face the Winchesters and Jack and live another day that would be the same as the previous one, but also not quite.

At some point, maybe, and they couldn’t know how long from now, they’d have to face another threat that’d try to tear them apart.

Nothing had changed. But everything was different.

Now they had a label for what they were.


End file.
